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prhyme - golden era lyrics

[intro: adrian younge]
the golden era of recording took place in 1968 to 1973, is a time when a hard sound was raw and unrefined. this is where you could find the seeds of hip hop

[intro: royce da 5’9″]
comes back around again
l. boogie, is you with me?
what goes around comes back around again
iceberg, is you with me?
what goes around comes back around again
nasty nas, is you with me?
at this very moment
you ’bout to witness another golden era of recordin’

[verse 1: royce da 5’9″]
let’s shine a light on this real shit, real shit
the lord won’t put too much on you than you can deal with
i learned early, why deal drugs when i can deal wit?
plus i’m down to k!ll plus switch k!lls
k!ll a friend of yours quick like flippin’ the k!ll switch
me being the illest, it was written, my lyrics are illmatic though
before the skateboarders controlled the genre your favorite rapper was still radical
we came from standstill to chitlin’ circuits to fanbuilt arenas
so flashin’ rifles on your instagram and throwin’ b-tches off the roof only work if you dan bilzerian
so me on this landscape is like using an ant hill for skiing
i’m like a young marshon trapped in his dark prime
roamin’ the premises with a shopping cart blind
with carte blanches to chart climb
these rappers are soft, they take l’s, embarr-ssing
doing light-skin n-gg- shit so they pale in comparison

[hook: royce da 5’9″]
at this very moment
you ’bout to witness another golden era of recordin’
lyrics is social commentary, money for your commissary
it’s the golden era of recordin’
where it’s cool to battle your demons
it’s cool to battle no matter who you are
the golden era of recordin’
it’s music out here for everybody no matter who you is
we live in the golden era of recordin’

[verse 2: royce da 5’9″]
let’s shine a light on this real shit, real quick
i’m a true karma chameleon, i’ve been through the illest, the ill shit
i believe he who escapes the environment unscathed should have nothing to say
therefore he shouldn’t make it if he never got punched in the face
let’s take it back to the basics
that’ll save him from getting punched in the face after he makes it
i’m from the motor city, it was intended for me to work in factory places
i chose to drink liters of hennessy with daiquiri chasers
if everybody around you is the kind that’ll take a mile if you give ’em an inch
the time it’ll take for you to fall out with all of them n-gg-s, that could mean acres
plus the time it’ll take for you to realize that rappers could be fakers
you wouldn’t be disputin’ the the bullshit twitter revolution
hope you can breathe way better in your “he can’t breathe” shirts
mention me or mine in your rhyme, it’s gon’ look like you around mayweather in a “he can’t read shirt”
cause i’m more the riotin’ type, n-gg-

[verse 3: joey bada$$]
and i’m something like a big deal
need six mil for the deal, check the witty appeal
throw up new yuck, yuck city feel with feel
i’m too real and too gritty i feel
ready to k!ll, ready to die
r.i.p to biggie, rep bk, bedstuy
bring your honey to this beehive
we buzzin’, cousin, f-ck a introduction, we live
my youngins want it, gunnin’ for them hundreds
my n-gg-s is headhuntin’ and it’s duck season for your sumchin
she took her top off, i started dumpin’, she was ruthless
she licked the c-cka for poppa like she was toothless
you got a different persona from what the truth is
sucker n-gg- stuck on stupid, it’s nothing new
all these hoes suckin’ d-ck and they get so comfortable up under you
fake players, and fake gangsters
sellin’ dreams, make-believe schemes, it’s san andreas
i take your b-tch and slay her
but i don’t really like to boast, i know i’m just that dope
i’ll take a toast, big ls’s is getting smoked, yo
to the illest coasters livin’, the ghost in the motherf-ckin’ belly of the coast

[outro: dj premier]
(golden era) *scratching*

- prhyme lyrics

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